


Day Dreams

by Foxurns



Series: Hypnagogia [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gender-neutral Reader, Other, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), kinda not really but can u tell i like those
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 09:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20356030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxurns/pseuds/Foxurns
Summary: Between skeletons and books, life can get pretty weird sometimes.Unfortunately, you don't think that excuses things when a certain monster shows up in your basement uninvited.





	Day Dreams

You blink, utterly incredulous at the skeleton that stands before you.

_The fuck?_

It’s been maybe… Hmm, 6 months? Something like that, yes, since your bedtime ritual with Nightmare first began.

5 months, maybe, since he started popping in at random - deciding to “**do you the honor**” of accompanying you in your “**sad life**” of working, reading, and horror movie marathons. 

4 months after he began hissing and spitting significantly less at being referred to as “a friend.”

3 months since he begrudgingly accepted you calling him “Night” and actually _touched_ you beyond (relatively) harmless shoves and swats. You hadn’t known how much of an efficient light bulb he could be, not until that night one of his tentacles fell over your shoulders - he quite literally _lit up_ when you pointed it out. <s>So hilariously cute</s>.

2 months, then, after a teasing back-and-forth ended in him declaring, “**it’s my house too, be grateful,**” and him slipping down into your basement before you could even ask what to be grateful _for_.

… He _somehow_ had turned the entire underground section of your home into some form of bizarre tar pit, a rubbery material not _entirely_ unlike his body covering the walls and floor. He’d even made up furniture, with a bed tucked away to the side and an entertainment room set up in the center! But you pointedly didn’t ask about the chair on the ceiling... Or where the almost certainly hijacked TV and assortment of knicknacks came from.

In fact, you found yourself oddly comfortable with the arrangement after he informed you that… _Whatever_ he did… Didn’t affect the “true structure” (whatever _that_ meant) and integrity of the building. You were just thankful you weren’t using the space for anything beforehand.

With that said, it must have been only a month since he started stealing food off your plate like some kind of gremlin. Since the beginning, any time you had offered even a small snack, he’d growl out that he “**didn’t need to eat**” and throw it back in your face - almost as if the very thought offended him. Even when he _<s>(somehow managed to steal your house)</s>_ moved in, you never saw him eat anything… 

You didn’t question when he had started to disappear for days on end in prior months, and you didn’t think too far into it when he told you he was “**just comfortable leaving you alone now, shut up.**” He only gave you the _barest_ of snippets into his life outside of your house, coming and going whenever he pleased, and you accepted that - plus all of the eccentricities his presence brought along.

You had at least a vague idea of what he was up to, even - you weren’t _stupid_ \- but didn’t concern yourself too much with happenings beyond your world. 

Yoinking your food, however? That was where you drew the line. _Criminal_.

It had been three weeks since you gave up on fussing and play-fighting with him, making a plate _for_ him since he so stubbornly refused to do it himself. Three weeks since that same night, he rewarded you with the _smuggest_ of looks for your actions, only to dive for your plate again. 

Two weeks since you resigned to the fate your strange roommate decided to wrought upon you, getting larger plates and heaping on them meals sized for two. He _still_ acted like he was on a personal mission to pilfer your mealtime goods, though, and the smirk that settled on his features when you played along was too great to pass up.

One week since you accepted the quite odd, nearly _domestic_ rhythm you had settled into with one of - if not _the_ \- most dangerous beings in the multiverse.

You blink again, taking in a deep breath. So, all that time, and yet still something like this hadn’t managed to happen.

_Again, the fuck?_

It looks as though somebody had attacked Nightmare with a hose and successfully cleansed him of his goopy exo-_skeleton_(heh). Which is especially weird, given that one time a combination of foolhardiness and curiosity had him laughing at you for even trying.

Even weirder are the almost gentle eyelights, bright and yellow, staring back and you. The concerned smile he’s wearing, as if it’s second nature to him, is merely icing on the cake of this predicament you’ve found yourself in.

_No, but seriously. Is there a god out there? Because: the fuck._

“Uh,” you say, very intelligently. The way the monster’s concern seems to visibly triple in response is like an extra punch to the gut for your already very, very confused mind.

_Am I being pranked? Is that what this is?_

Thank the stars that he seems just as lost as you are, mouth opening before clacking shut again. You can only watch as his eyelights flit around the basement like it’s going to eat him.

Man, you only came down here to give Nightmare a new round of books. Why was this happening?

“Uhhh,” you try again, trying to kickstart your brain - you just have to say something, _anything_.

Thankfully, it works, but sadly, it works poorly.

“That’s, uh, a… New look for you, Night. You finally figure out that being emo went out of style..?” Your voice trails off into an awkward laugh.

Immediately, his sockets snap wide open and his jaw falls in a shocked gape, and just as quickly do you feel you’ve made a mistake.

“ah-! i!” He starts, and a part of you is satisfied he’s stumbling just as badly as you are… But there’s just one thing. Your feeling of _wrong_ intensifies as the soft, melodic tones in the other’s voice become more clear.

“i,” his hands shoot up to worry at themselves as his smile takes on a discernibly nervous tilt, “i, heheh, i’m not nightmare…”

_Ah. Of course. That makes sense,_ is your first thought, before the information slams into you like a ton of bricks. _Wait. Who the fuck is this then? Excuse me???_

The apparent stranger doesn’t give you an opportunity to say anything, but perhaps thankfully for both of your sakes, manages to answer your thoughts.

“i’m… his brother, actually? um… hello! i’m dream! it’s nice to meet you, uh, despite the circumstances,” he gives a nervous giggle, and you instantly wonder how you mixed up the two.

Well… In your defense, it’s not like you had a bunch of skeletons running around in your basement. You feel you ought to be forgiven if you had just assumed “magic shenanigan bullshit.” 

And then the information sinks in again, sending your thoughts back into a flurry.

_Wait. Dream? His brother? Hold on here just a second-_

But once more, Dream seems intent on not giving you a chance to speak, thrusting his hand in your face in a way that… Somehow manages to be not rude, _somehow,_ which is something you figure should be credited to the award-winning little smile he’s now aiming at you.

The feeling that bubbles up within you in response is something you immediately stuff down, and is something that has you stubbornly deciding you’re not this guy’s biggest fan.

Granted, brother or not, what Nightmare’s told you of his relationship with Dream has you _rather upset_ that the skeleton has found his way into your house.

Dream seems to interpret the rising discontent within you as something else, obviously unaware that he’s kinda technically… Well, absolutely _is_ the source of it. 

“i’m sorry, human- if i knew my brother had taken to kidnapping, i would’ve come the second i sensed his presence here,” the guilt that creeps into his expression affects your heart in a way that is simply _unfair_, “but… but! don’t worry. i’ll stop him later. it’s time to get you out of here!”

He shoots you another concerned look as you just _stare_ at him and his outstretched hand, your brow having furrowed heavily as he continued speaking.

“h… human? are you alright?” His voice comes out almost squeaky-like, concern very clearly mounting again as you make no move to take his hand.

Your brain feels like mush. _Angry_ mush. It’s only when he shifts gears and makes a grab for your arm do you actually manage to step away from him entirely.

_Damn, he’s kinda cute actually. Upsetting._ Why weren’t you warned? 

“Pretty good, actually,” you’re shocked at the confidence of your own voice, “despite the recent breaking and entering.” Dang, you must have nailed the tone drop at the end too, because Dream’s sockets widen in a way that’s almost comical.

But as he did earlier, you don’t give him a chance to say anything.

“Well… Probably less breaking _and_ entering, more just entering. Since you’re brothers, I guess you get places the same way Night does, huh?”

The skeleton’s jaw drops again, and you have to stifle a laugh as he looks like he’s about to say something.

_Nope, not today._

“This is, uh… Definitely the most _well-intentioned_ home invasion I can say I’ve seen, but… Well. This is still my house, buddy.” 

You find yourself plastering on a smile you know _he_ knows isn’t quite genuine.

“wait-”

You cut him off with a wave of a hand, your voice coming out far more steady now as your smile becomes a sneaky grin - ah, yes, _this_ was more like it.

“So, between that, and what I think was _probably_ you trying to ambush my bud… Ah, _housemate_, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

You kinda can’t wait to tell Night about the way you’re watching his brother’s mandible clack open and shut, or the way he’s just stuttering out words in his apparent shock.

But then, as Dream’s eyelights morph into shapes that might be more accurately called _star_lights, and his mouth curves into the biggest smile you’ve seen on him yet… You get the feeling that Nightmare just might make it in time to meet the _persona non grata_ himself.

Dream’s hands shoot out to clasp your shoulders, and the noise he makes can only be described as a squeal. If you were to be entirely honest with yourself, you knew you’d be cooing at the display under any other circumstance.

Unfortunately for him though, at the moment you just find yourself offended at the invasion of personal space. First your home, and now even you _yourself_? Dang, dude, how rude.

“so you _do_ know him, human!” 

Unfortunately for _you_, though, the guardian just bounces on his feet as you peel his hands off of your person - and to your further chagrin, seems to very pointedly be ignoring your request to leave.

“you’re- you’re _friends!_” 

You don’t miss the disbelief in his tone, somewhere between _questioning_ and _awe_, and the less stubborn part of you doesn’t blame him. 

The stubborn part, of course, feels a growing sense of trepidation as the stars in his sockets practically grow into glowing suns. You have a suspicion as to just what that means, and as Dream begins to do something that’s just short of _vibrating..._

You don’t think you like where this is going.

_Oh no._

You’re not sure what kind of noise you make when he tackles you in a hug, but even as it gets drowned out in his giggles, you know it’s not a happy one.

You… Definitely don’t hug him back. It’s just to keep the overexuberant skeleton from toppling the both of you over as he _still_ bounces on his heels, chattering away so quickly that you barely understand half of his words.

“how’d you do it?! i’ve been trying for forever, like, _literally-_”

“- but stars! i’m so happy! this is the best-”

“he finally has a friend! he’s never _had_ any friends before!”

You have to stifle an admittedly guilty snort as you catch the last bit, wriggling an arm free from Dream’s… Surprisingly iron grip, damn. Note to self: don’t piss this guy off. It’s always the nice ones.

You take the opportunity to slap your newly unfettered hand over his mouth, cutting his continuous word vomit blissfully short.

“_Stars_, dude, for starters… One sentence at a time.” 

The sudden jumpstart he gets back into common sense, sheepish smile and all as he lets you go, is almost enough to keep you from saying your next words.

_Almost._

“That, and I still you want you to leave.”

The way his smile instantly drops into a pout is downright _heartbreaking_. So _unfair_. Why does disappointing this dude make you feel like you’re kicking a puppy? You don’t even _know_ the guy.

Even as you bite back an irritated groan - man, Nightmare must be rubbing off on you or something - your internal struggle rages on.

“... Damn, _fine_. Half an hour, then you’re gone. And I don’t want to see you back until I talk to Night about you showing up.”

The bright, literally starry-eyed grin you receive is almost worth it.

But again, only _almost_. You find yourself having to look away as the sincere expression makes you feel things you _really_ don’t want to be feeling right now. You’re trying to be angry, damn it.

“really? and you’ll talk to him? thank you so much!”

_… Ugh. At least he’s remembered how to be polite._

Forget Night. You already know the repercussions of Dream's arrival are going to be the _real_ nightmare.

**Author's Note:**

> skeletons are, by definition, literal airheads. that is their only saving grace in reader's eyes
> 
> alternatively titled: "tfw meeting positivity incarnate brought you more emotional turbulence than the dude who's basically the bogeyman did"


End file.
